Stab In The Heart
by xenowriter
Summary: Jaime deals with his demons after the victory at Highgarden. Season 7 Spoilers!


Stab In The Heart

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the staircase as Jaime made his way back down from the keep at Highgarden. His posture rigid, his pace quick. He strained to hold his composure together after his brief conversation with the Queen of Thorns. The business was done, but her last gift plagued his heart. Soldiers dutifully lined the walls at each corridor. Most times this didn't bother him, but for once he wanted to be alone. He had to seek solitude. To digest what was brought to light. Olenna's confession felt like a stab in the heart and his vital organ couldn't take anymore.

As the courtyard opened up, Jaime slowed his approach and looked around. Piles of bodies littered the area. Soldiers, castle workers, wenches and animals. All placed roughly together. A bloody, gruesome mess. Off in the distance, he could hear cheering from his men for their victory. Though the term was a farce. There was no fight. At least not what he expected. Instead of a battle, it was more of a quick death.

"Aye, make sure you don't drop a single coin," Bronn's voice was pretty recognizable. Jaime figured he would be standing over the task of collecting the entire treasury for transport back to King's Landing. The rugged black haired man was the spitting image of greed. No wonder his brother Tyrion kept him around. The smaller man was another dagger to the heart. One that his sister, Cersei, twisted over and over as a firm reminder of what he did earlier on.

Pausing in midstride, he looked over to his left to see the granary exposed and empty. His men already sacked that and a sparse trail of grain revealed their direction. It would have to do. Casting his dark eyes to the nearest man, he quickly spoke, "Make sure that no one disturbs me."

"At once, my lord," The soldier hastily saluted. A young lord's son no doubt. Filled with the tales of honor and triumph of being a Lannister soldier. In his earlier days, Jaime would have been dash. After all, seeing the heir to the Casterly Rock was a privilege. At least it had been when his father, Tywin was alive. Now, he wasn't quite sure what were being told to the recruits. A pondering that would be an interesting talk with Bronn on the way back.

Remaining still, Jaime honed in on the noises of the castle around him. He still kept his guard up. There could have been one poor bastard who still lurked in the shadows; waiting for one unsuspecting Lannister to take down. Feeling like his chest was about to burst, Jaime finally gave in to the turmoil that spun around inside him like a maelstrom. His knees wobbled as they wanted to give away. He felt the tears gnawing at his eyes like hot wax waiting to be poured over the castle wall. The dialogue from Olenna played in his mind over and over like a never-ending song sung by a minstrel. The old prune sat at her desk with a smug expression. _"Not in all what I intended. You see, I'd never seen the poison work before. Tell Cersei, I wanted her to know it was me_." It was haunting enough for her to go in detail earlier on about his oldest son's death, but to finally admit to the crime. Of killing the king? A child? _His_ son?! And to think he had the decency to show her mercy! What news would he tell Cersei? After all, it was his idea to avoid a bloody suffering death for the mourning queen of Highgarden. She already suffered the loss of her son, her grandson and granddaughter at the sept at the hands of Cersei. He knew what it felt to lose a child. At the time, he already lost a daughter on the way back from Dorne and gained news of losing his other son from suicide. There was certainly no love for Joffrey at King's Landing or in the Seven Kingdoms for that matter. Still, the blonde arrogant boy was his son and he was always keeping a watchful eye at best he could even though only his daughter right before her death knew about him being their father. Myrcella's loving eyes gazing up at him with a warm smile on her rosy cheeks. Her blonde curls gently brushing her shoulders. She confessed to him of her knowledge and yet she did not recoil from him. The one thing he wanted that he never confessed to Cersei about; even after their sessions. He wanted to be their father. He was tired of standing off in the shadows as the imposter, Robert Baratheon, hardly cherished their existence as he whored his way through his reign. Unlike the fat now rotting bastard, Jaime was loyal to his sister. He never yearned to lie with another. The memories of earlier times danced in his mind like a young girl at a brothel. Giving into the beauty of the sights, he slid down the wall to the sit upon the dirt floor and invited more to come in.

Days later…

The days of storage and rest really didn't help Jaime overcome the pain he was experiencing still. Luckily, the castle was large enough to seek refuge from Bronn and Randyll Tarly. Now it was time to see to their next task: Getting the gold back to King's Landing and paying off the Iron Bank. Randyll, the most boring man Jaime had ever met, was already on his horse at the castle's gate when Jaime approached. "My men had trouble finding you." His words were short and gruff. He eyed Jaime suspiciously; but the expression never left his face. Jaime began to wonder if the man's face was sewn on that way out of spite.

"Had my own tasks to attend to," Jaime sized him up as he looked up at the short haired man.

"The gold is ready. We need to get it back. The entire line would hold it up."

A daunting task that Jaime was already aware of. He motioned for his horse to be brought to him. Once it was brought, he climbed on and then finally gave Tarly his attention. "Then I think it would be wise to get it ahead. Make sure your men have it well guarded. If anything happens to that gold-"

"My men are up to the task, _my lord_ ," Randyll snapped with the emphasis on the title. "I will see to it now."

Jaime shook his head as he looked on. Hearing a horse coming up to his side, he didn't bother to look to see who it was. He already knew. It was Sir Bronn of the Blackwater. "Man of few words isn't he?" The sell sword scoffed. The man then turned his head towards Jaime. "About time you showed up. Was beginning to think you already left to King's Landing without us."

"Now why would I do that?" Tywin's son refrained from rolling his eyes as he kicked lightly at his horse's sides to signal it to move.

Bronn kept up with his pace. "Heard she croaked about an hour after you disappeared."

"Who?"

"Fucking Queen of Thorns. That's who." The sell sword grew quiet for a relieving second, and then blurted out, "What were her last words?"

"How would I know? I wasn't in the room." Jaime didn't want to think back to what transpired a few days ago.

"Aye, I know that, you cunt." Bronn's voice became louder with agitation. Jaime glared sharply over at him. Then the man cracked a smile. "What did she say to you?"

He just had to go there. Jaime could feel a pit form in the bottom of his stomach. "She's dead now. There's nothing more to talk about." He kicked a little harder to make his steed pick up the pace as he saw the front of his troops coming into view.

Bronn matched him once again. "Why won't you bloody tell me? What'd she do? Confess her love? Did you fuck her?"

Jaime looked at him in disgust. "You do realize how old she is right?" He managed to block the mental image from coming into his mind. That was the last thing he needed to see on the way back.

Bronn gave a haphazard shrug. "Just tell me."

"Why do you care?"

He countered, "Why is it so secret?"

Jaime groaned to himself as he tried his best to ignore his hired man. He needed to get back to King's Landing. He needed to see Cersei. He wanted to dive his head into her lushness breasts and smell her sweet scent. The feel of her arms over his body. Those times were simpler. Even though they had to mask their lovemaking, things were going their way and his children were still alive. Now with Cersei on the throne, she was not afraid to express her fondness she had for her brother. But the sex felt different. His manhood didn't throb for her like it did before. So much had changed. She had changed. Maybe he did too?


End file.
